Page 23 of Edwina

Chapter 23

  Edwina returned to work and found chaos. The woman who was called in to take her place yesterday; after complaining to the city council that the library was not being run correctly, began her new duties as a watchdog.

  The head librarian had shut herself up in her office in order to avoid the clash going on out in the small, usually quiet library.

  Edwina forbade her mind to rush off on negative clouds of thought and pushed the critical words, She’s just trying to take my job... who does she think she is anyway... from her mind. The woman had given her a headache. The lady didn’t know the first thing about running a library, but she sure knew how to run her nails across the chalkboard with her incessant bellyaching. Her yammering had caused even the high school teens who came after school to give the woman dirty looks. One of the young gals had whispered in passing, “How can you stand it?”

  “Not very well.” Edwina watched her words because she knew they had a funny way of flying back and landing on your head, like a little bird. Besides, she knew it was wrong to gossip.

  She had enjoyed a walk at lunch today. It reminded her of the time she spent in the hills in Scotland that day back in May and wanted to relive the joy of walking alone. Besides, she thought it was better to leave the building, get away from the woman who seemed honor bound to find fault with everything she came across.

  The sidewalks were still too warm to take her shoes off and walk barefoot. Even though she wore her work clothes, she was tempted to do it anyway. But she didn’t.

  Once home from work, glad because it was Friday, she had the unpleasant task of answering the calls from yesterday. After her shoes were put in the closet, pants hung just so, and the shirt tossed in the laundry basket, she slipped on a pair of cutoffs and a raggedy T-shirt. Pen and paper in hand, she sat in the chair and pressed the play button on her answering machine.

  Cecelia called three times. Another call came in for a book request. Most of her friends thought she knew exactly where any one book would be at any given time. She wrote down the title. The last call was from Cecelia.

  “Edwina, I’ve called several times today, where are you? I need information on the couple from Scotland. It seems they’ve moved up my appearance on Oprah, and I have to let the producer know guest names. The couple called once and left a message, but I can’t seem to find their telephone number anywhere.”

  Wincing because she still had not heard from the couple, she tried to think what to do. Check the mail first. A quick run down the stairs, Edwina gathered two days’ worth. She’d forgotten about it yesterday.

  There in the middle was a letter with her name on the front of the familiar stationery—the paper he had written on from his pocket, one and the same in style. She smelled the cream colored envelope and opened it quickly. They were most excited to come to Chicago. And to be on the show... they would be delighted to be of assistance, especially since they were receiving several free nights at Cecelia’s Place.

  Edwina wanted to dance. She picked up the phone and related the good news to her sister. “They will be here the first of September,” she said excitedly.

  “What? The first of September! My show has been moved up several days. I need them here no later than August 20.” Cecelia’s voice raised.

  “But you said September... I wrote them the dates.”

  “Ed, you’re not listening. The show has been moved ahead of schedule. I’ve told you that three times.”

  “That’s barely three weeks from now.”

  Edwina could hear the tapping of Cecelia’s pencil in the background.

  “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “Call them, or better yet, give me their number. I’ll talk them into coming early.”

  “No.” Edwina hesitated. She didn’t want the elderly couple left to her sister’s mercy. Cecelia could unglue any normal person... no, she couldn’t allow it. “I’ll take care of it. You’ve got enough to do.”

  Strangely enough, Cecelia settled for her suggestion. Her sister was a control freak from the get-go.

  “Good, but don’t write. It’ll take too long. Get their phone number, it’ll be quicker. We don’t have that much time. I need them here by the twentieth, Ed.”

  Edwina knew her sister was right and hesitated.

  “Make the long distance calls at my place.” Cecelia knew her very well.

  “All right . . .” Edwina felt cheap, knowing she didn’t want to spend the money when Cecelia could better afford the charges. And she hadn’t seen her sister since she’d returned from Scotland.

  “You have the key to my new place, don’t you?”

  “New place?”

  “Ed, you know I moved up a floor into the bigger condo, don’t you? Where have you been?”

  “Sorry, I guess I’ve been in my own world.”

  “Yes, I guess you have. Why don’t you come tonight? I’ll give you the key, and you can make your calls. Spend the night. I’ll be here for another hour or so—I have a short meeting, but I should be back in time for the news. You can see my new condo, and we can gab about your trip.”

  “Now?” Edwina knew she whined. She’d planned for a simple supper and a good read tonight.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Edwina hated it when she said that because it always worked. As soon as she turned a situation over to someone else, that someone else knew Cecelia was right and went along with her.

  “Okay, I’ll be there, but I’m coming like I am.”

  “You always do.” Her sister was smiling, she could tell.

  “Yeah, and you always get your way,” Edwina said grumpily. She could tell Cecelia wanted to argue that point. Twenty minutes later, she was on the way. It was less than a two-hour drive to Chicago in good weather. Thank goodness it was Friday. The drive was so familiar, Edwina made it in record time. She’d packed a small bag, with a new pair of summer pajamas, and walked out of the house in less than half an hour. She hadn’t seen Cecelia’s new place and needed a key for emergencies, because Cecelia was always losing hers.

  She rode the elevator up, then realized she hadn’t asked what the new apartment number was. Pushing the button to the floor above her old place, she got out and snooped around. Should she knock? There were only three doors down the hallway, whereas the other levels had at least ten. The walls had been newly plastered and painted a soft taupe.

  “Pick one, Edwina. This can’t be too hard.”

  Before she could lay her hand to the door’s buzzer, it opened. “Forgot to ask, didn’t you?” Cecelia gave her the usual European hug, a kiss on each cheek without actually touching.

  “Yep.”

  “Come in. You look tan or something. Have you lost weight?”

  Edwina winced. She asked that every time. “Does every- body have to be as skinny as you? Who would notice you then?”

  “That wasn’t nice,” Cecelia said.

  “No, it wasn’t. But really, I get tired of people thinking someone has to be beautiful, powerful, and skinny all at the same time.”

  “Well, well, what have we here? A memorial for the downtrodden? You just look thinner, that’s all.”

  Edwina shook her head. “Got your extra key? I don’t want to forget it.”

  “Yes.”

  Edwina slipped it into the secret compartment of her bag.

  “So this is all yours, huh?” Edwina tossed her bag on the cream-colored overstuffed pristine sofa, one of four matching ones forming a perfect square, and slipped off her shoes near the door. “Nice. Very nice... and huge. What do you do with all this space? You’re hardly ever home.”

  Her sister shrugged. “Yes, the entire floor is mine. I had the builders knock out several walls to make this larger space. I like it and can afford it. Why not? Did you bring the letter?”

  “Sure did.” She laid the letter in her sister’s perfectly manicured fingertips and wandered around touching all the beautiful things while her sister read.

  “Are you jealou
s yet?” Cecelia looked up as she slipped the letter back into the envelope.

  “Jealous? Are you kidding? I’d like something a bit roomier, but nothing like this.” She waved her hand. “I wouldn’t know what to do with all this space. And who cleans? Obviously you don’t have time to vacuum, scrub toilets and mop floors . . .”

  “Well, if you must know, I allow one of my tenants a reduction on his rent, and he cleans for me every other day.”

  “He?”

  “He.”

  “Every other day Cecelia? Why so often?”

  “I have guests. Important guests. I have made this a showplace for those who want to make their space look as elegant as this, so they can see how it’s possible in an older, architecturally sound building such as this one. It can be done, Edwina, and I think the best way is to show people what they can achieve. The upper floors will be condominiums and the lower three rented out as B&B rooms, which, by the way are decorated in European style.”

  “Makes sense,” Edwina admitted.

  “Of course it does, dear, or I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

  “That’s true Cecilia. Got anything to eat? I skipped supper tonight, so I could get here at a decent hour.”

  “I’ll send out. What would you like?”

  “We can eat in.”

  “Ed, I’ll send out. I want to spend the time talking about your trip, not in the kitchen, and how we’re going to get the good Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie to the United States in time for the show.”

  “Okay, you’re right.”

  “Would you stop saying I’m right?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “How does pizza sound? Or sushi.”

  “As in raw fish? How can you stand that stuff?”

  “Pizza then? I know a great place. It’s just down the street.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Which sounded very much like, You’re right.

  They decided on toppings and crust and Cecelia placed the order, complete with drinks, dessert, even the unexpected—mints. Cecelia made sure she got her money’s worth, but then so did she. In that one way they were alike.

  “Now sit down. Quit fidgeting and tell me about your trip. The one I missed.”

  The words quit fidgeting slammed into her mind. The Scot and Bertie had said the same thing to her.

  “Helllooo... anyone at home?” Cecelia was waving her arms wildly.

  “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  “Obviously. Now tell me, did you enjoy the plane ride?”

  “Well, it seems that the hotel will only keep your room for several hours... and since my plane was late...”

  “Didn’t you call ahead and tell them your flight was late and to hold the room?”

  “No... I didn’t know then that I needed to... I just thought they’d hold it.”

  “Ed, the upscale hotels do not work like that. They’re constantly turning over guests, you know.

  “I know that now, but then I didn’t. Besides, I was so tired I could barely think straight. All I heard was that I didn’t have a room. If it hadn’t been for the Scot... Mr. Dunnegin, I think I would have ended up on the next plane home.”

  “There’s always a way around, things, Ed. You just need to travel a bit more.” Cecelia made her point.

  “What happened with Mr. Dunnegin?” Cecelia slipped off her elegant crème satin heels and curled her slender legs beneath her matching crème skirt.

  “Well, I noticed him on the plane. He is really handsome, Cece. You should have been there to meet him.”

  Cecelia smiled her gorgeous smile.

  “Anyway he ended up behind me at the hotel counter. He was there to rent the Bridal Suite. He came to my rescue. Anyway, he took me to his castle for the weekend and—”

  “Stop right there. You went to his castle? And you didn’t even know the man?”

  “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t get past the guy at the counter. Mr. Dunnegin took full responsibility for me, and we left.” Edwina purposely did not tell her sister that she’d fainted. She knew she’d never live that down.

  “So he was good looking, yes?”

  “Very. Rich, too.”

  “Anyone that owns a castle is rich.” Cecelia stated the obvious.

  “So, his fiancée was waiting, and he’d just flown home to be with her. She was beautiful, Cecelia. Movie star beautiful. From Spain. Her name was Ilana Mamara.”

  Her sister was leaning closer now.

  “So did the Scot—what was his name? Did he treat you well?”

  “His real name was Mr. Alexander Dunnegin of the Castle Dunnegin. Laird Dunnegin, Bertie called him”

  “Who is Bertie?”

  “Oh, she’s the head housekeeper. She was formidable at the beginning, but we ended up friends. We even laughed together the day I left.”

  “Laughed? Housekeepers aren’t usually given to laughing in Scotland.”

  “Well, we did. And once or twice I even had the Scot laughing. You should have seen him in full Scottish dress for his birthday party. Kilt, sword, everything. He was—is— very handsome.”

  “Well, did the he and the woman, Ilana, marry while you were there?”

  “No. She left the last day. He told me before I left that they’d parted ways.”

  Cecelia had a dreamy look. “Just like in a book or a movie, huh?”

  “Yeah, it was dreamlike all right. I walked the hills one evening, and oh Cecelia, it was so beautiful.” Edwina stared off into space.

  “Well, tell me about the tour. Did you just love it?”

  “Oh yes, I loved all the locations. But then you know me. I don’t like to be rushed. I love to see everything, look it over, take my time. When the tour bus stopped, we’d get out, walk for what seemed like miles, get on and off, walk and walk. I had blisters the size of dimes.”

  “Oh, that bad, huh? It was the best tour, the most expensive, and I scheduled plenty of time for massages, exercise, and beauty treatments.”

  “I know. But that’s you, not me. Anyway, it couldn’t be helped. And I am sorry you didn’t get to go, Cece. It would have been perfect for you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. As you can see, everything worked out. I might have missed the chance to buy this building had I not been here at the right time.”

  “That’s a good way of looking at it.”

  “So, did you see the Scot before you left to go back and thank him?”

  “I did see him for a few minutes.” Edwina did not want to go into details about the offer he made because if she did she knew she’d be in Scotland tomorrow morning.

  “For goodness’ sake you didn’t thank him? The man put you up in his castle. Do you know how expensive it is to stay in a castle, for even one night?”

  Edwina shrugged. “I did thank him the day he left, but I guess I should have written a thank you note or something.”

  “Or something indeed. Come on, pizza’s here. Let’s eat, and we’ll get down to business about the Gillespies.”

  They went back and forth for the rest of the evening. Cecelia insisted that Edwina place a phone call to the Gillespie’s number, but it was four o’clock in the morning in Scotland and Mr. Gillespie was woken. Edwina left her number with him along with an apology.

  “Well, let’s go to bed early. I have a meeting at seven and after that you and I are going shopping.”

  “Shopping? You know I hate shopping in Chicago.” Edwina whined. Her sister would drag her from one huge store to another, nothing of which she could afford to buy, even if she wanted to.

  “Your birthday is coming, buy yourself a gift on me.”

  “But it’s months away.” Edwina knew they would go shopping. Cecelia would hang packages on her arm, and she’d be stuck hauling the stuff all over the place. There she was whining again. She didn’t like herself very much these days.

  The ticking of the grandfather clock in Cecelia’s living room kept her awake half the night. She was not one to ease into a new si
tuation easily. And morning would mean a bagel and a tomato juice, then off to Saturday shopping in one of the biggest cities in America. Edwina groaned and covered her head with a pillow.

 
Patricia Strefling's Novels